


Don't You Go

by lotorotor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Bar Fight, Drunk Sex, Hate Sex, M/M, Morning After, Non-Explicit Sex, One Night Stands, One Shot, Sexual Tension, Violence, harry realizes he has feelings, stupid gay boys being stupid and gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 07:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14971844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotorotor/pseuds/lotorotor
Summary: Harry just wants to forget his own name and maybe drown himself in his drink. Plans change when he runs into Draco Malfoy and they prove, once again, that they literally cannot control themselves around each other.





	Don't You Go

It was Saturday night, and Harry Potter had had a long week. He was seriously reconsidering working for the Ministry, and tonight he just wanted to forget his own name. That’s why he’d ended up at this sleazy muggle bar, downing another whiskey, and hoping that this would be the one that pushed him from tipsy to properly drunk; sometimes it sucked to have a high tolerance to alcohol.

While he tried to force himself not to think about his life, a figure slipped into the seat next to him, ordering some fancy drink that Harry didn’t catch, as he didn’t particularly care what strangers preferred. He drained the last of his whiskey and ordered another, when the british drawl from the stranger next to him caught his attention. Harry turned and realized that the stranger next to him was actually not a stranger at all, but rather and incredibly familiar, and definitely unwelcome Draco Malfoy. This was someone he definitely should _not_ talk to under any circumstances tonight, especially since his plan was to get black out drunk and find some alley to sleep in. Talking to Draco Malfoy was not the path he wanted to take. In fact, moving away from him was the best course of action.

“What’s a Pureblood like yourself doing in a place like this?” Harry asked, while kicking himself in the arse for not sticking with his plan to move and down several more whiskeys.

There was a silence while Malfoy slowly turned and fixed a grey eyed gaze on Harry. “I could ask the Boy Who Lived the same thing.” He finally drawled.

Harry had no idea how it happened, but the next thing he knew he had gone from having semi-civil conversation with Malfoy to facing off in the middle of the bar, screaming at him. The two of them had crossed some line and were now well into the realm of hurling half garbled insults at each other. The bartender was also yelling, as well as several other patrons, and Harry took several angry steps towards Malfoy and pushed him by the shoulders. The blonde man stumbled backwards, but managed to keep his balance, and soon the two had pushed and shoved each other until they were both outside of the pub and in some dank alleyway.

“You stupid prick, it always ends like this, huh!” Harry yelled, red in the face, his blood rushing in his ears.

“You started it, just like you always start it!” Malfoy shouted back.

Harry scoffed. “Right, I started all those times you fucking started it.” He knew he wasn’t making sense, but he was too angry and drunk to care.

“Yeah, you do start it, with that stupid fucking face of yours that’s just begging for my li- fists.” He faltered at the end of his sentence, and Harry’s eyes narrowed. He stepped closer to Malfoy until he was leering over him.

“What was that? What were you about to say?” His voice dropped to a raspy whisper, his breath fanning over the other man’s face.

“N- nothing.” Malfoy stepped back until his back met the rough wall of some building, Harry closing in the distance.

“What’s my face begging for? Huh?” He leaned in closer, green eyes hard as stone. Something flickered across Malfoy’s face, something that looked like a mixture of anger, fear, and… something else.

Malfoy glared, placing his hands on Harry’s chest, prepared to push him away and make his escape. “At this point, definitely my fists.”

“Is that all? You wanna punch me? Do it. Go ahead. Do it.” Harry wasn’t entirely sure why he was challenging Malfoy like this, other than the fact that getting decked in the face would be an amazing distraction.

Draco’s hands curled into fists, gathering the fabric of Harry’s shirt. He glared again at the dark man, before his right hand let go of the clothing and did, in fact, land a punch against Harry’s jaw. Adrenaline coursed through him, he didn’t know what he was doing, except that he’d grabbed the prick’s shirt once again and was pulling him towards him. Hungry lips violently mashed against Harry’s, who stiffened momentarily, before grabbing Malfoy by the hips and yanking him closer. Lips moved against lips, and jaws, and necks, and hands grabbed and pulled whatever they could find. Draco was moaning Harry’s name, his _name_ , and oh god did it send shivers down his spine. He whispered Draco’s name and tried to pull him even closer, closer, but he was never close enough. His hand reached for his wand…

Harry didn’t know how it happened but suddenly it was the next morning and he was back at his flat, staring at the sleeping face of Draco Malfoy who happened to fit perfectly in his arms. He was surprised to find that, although he was _incredibly_ sore, he was also happier than he had been in a while.

Images of the night before flashed through his mind. They’d fought, they’d fucked, and Draco had ended up falling asleep in his arms. He didn’t know at what point his heart had done a 180 and stopped hating the blonde man. He had a feeling that, really, it had been long before they’d met at that bar. He had a feeling that the anger he’d felt hadn’t really been for Draco, but for himself.

He also hoped that this wasn’t just a one-night stand, but for Draco, it had probably just been sex. Something about that notion bothered him, but he also figured that he should be more bothered over the fact that it _wasn’t_ just sex for him.

Just as that thought tickled his mind, Draco’s long, blonde eyelashes fluttered, and his pink lips opened in a yawn. Grey eyes blinked open, taking in his current situation, and he tried to process just how he’d ended up waking up in Potter’s arms when he’s pretty damn sure he’d tried to kill him the night before.

“Good morning.” Harry’s low voice rumbled in his chest. Draco stared at him.

“What the fuck happened last night?” he asked, his voice raspy from a sore throat. Harry cocked one eyebrow and watched as Draco blinked once, twice, and then, “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah.” Harry smirked, admittedly quite happy with the situation.

“Shit, shit.” Draco continued to repeat the profanity as he struggled to remove himself from the covers and Harry’s arms and began searching for his clothes.

Something pierced Harry’s heart, and he felt disappointment and chagrin rise in his throat. “Don’t go.” Draco froze and looked back at the man who was laying there with such a helpless expression on his face.

“I… I have to.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve got lunch with my mum and it’s…” Another curse slipped from his lips as he checked the time. “God, it’s after 10! I barely have time to get ready as is.”

Silence reared as Draco continued to pull clothes on, and Harry contemplated everything. “Is that the only reason?”

Again, Draco’s movements stilled as he looked down at him. He chewed on his bottom lip as he thought before answering with an “I don’t know.”

Harry didn’t say anything else as Draco buttoned up the last button of his shirt and grabbed his wand off the floor. He only watched sadly as the blonde hurried to the door and left with barely a goodbye. There were a lot of things that Harry didn’t know, but one thing was certain, and it was that he didn’t want this to be a one-night stand to be forgotten by both parties.

Maybe he ought to ask Draco to have dinner with him?

**Author's Note:**

> loosely based on the song Don't You Go by All Time Low
> 
> originally posted on my hp blog @12dancingwizards


End file.
